


Migraine

by headinthecloudsgirl



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Headaches & Migraines, Vomiting, poor matt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:47:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28589769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headinthecloudsgirl/pseuds/headinthecloudsgirl
Summary: He wasn’t sure for how long he sat there on the ground, hanging onto reality by a thread. It felt like someone was trying to hammer an ice pick through his eye directly into his brain. It hurt.  A lot. After what could have been minutes or hours, he felt a small hand coming to rest on his shoulder and smelled perfume that somehow didn’t make him more nauseous than he already was.Matt has a migraine at work - cue Kelly and Brett to the rescue
Relationships: Matthew Casey & Christopher Herrmann, Matthew Casey & Kelly Severide, Sylvie Brett & Matthew Casey
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	Migraine

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone!  
> Ugh, I've been gone so long but, you know, life's been hectic. Thanks to the pandemic, I'm home all day with the little one (he just turned one, time flies) and next to university that sort of depletes my free time :D  
> BUT a new year's resolution is (among others) to get back into writing and it seems like I'm up to a good start, yay!  
> Enjoy reading!

Kelly knew that something was going on with Matt today. Perks of living with each other – they pretty much didn’t have any secrets anymore. He just wasn’t quite sure what was going on, yet. Matt had had a late start this morning, barely had time to grab a quick shower and gulp down half a cup of coffee before they had to leave for the Firehouse. Matt had gotten there just before Kelly and was already at his desk by the time Kelly peeked into the bunk room.

Whatever was going on today, he was sure he would find out sooner or later.

* * *

Matt had beelined for his desk the moment he had stepped foot into 51. He’d woken up with a headache this morning and in vain tried to sleep it off. Instead of waking up well rested and headache-free, he had been running late which didn’t make his head feel any better.

Sinking onto his chair, he rummaged through his drawer and sighed in relief when he found a bottle of ibuprofen. Matt popped a pill into his mouth, washed it down with some water and got to the reports that still needed to be written from last shift. It had been a busy day; Kelly and he were both behind on paperwork. The next hour was spent filling out forms and writing incident reports until Herrmann stuck his head through the door.

“Breakfast’s ready, Casey.”

Matt glanced up and felt his field of vision swim for a moment. He blinked and then nodded at Herrmann.

“I’ll be there in a sec.”

Now that he was no longer concentrating on the reports, Matt noticed that his headache had not gotten any better – if anything, it was getting worse.

“Great.”

Since his head injury a couple of years ago, he occasionally dealt with headaches and migraines but it had been months since one of them had hit. 

_Maybe it_ is _just a headache_ _,_ Matt hoped and made his way to the common room.

Before he even stepped foot into the kitchen area, he could smell bacon and eggs, maybe some toast, but instead of getting hungry, he felt his stomach turn unpleasantly. Maybe it was a migraine after all.

Plastering a smile on his face, Matt got a coffee, some toast and eggs and sat down next to the rest of truck and ambo. It was a small blessing that Kelly was at the Squad table, otherwise he would have called his bluff that moment.

“You feeling all right, Captain?”

Herrmann knew him almost as well as Kelly did.

Matt looked up at Herrmann, who had his brow furrowed, “You’re looking kind of peaky.”

“I’m fine,” Matt huffed and took a bite of his toast to make his point.

Maybe he shouldn’t have. Now he had a piece of toast in his mouth that he couldn’t swallow for the life of him. What had been a kind of queasy feeling a minute ago was ramping up to nausea.

The lights overhead hurt his eyes, making the headache worse. Yeah, this was definitely turning into a migraine now.

Herrmann still had his eyes on him, as though daring him to swallow the toast and by now Brett was also looking at him.

Matt was saved by the bells, so to speak. The alarm went off, calling Truck and Ambo to a vehicle accident not far from 51.

When the shrill noise alerted them to the incoming call, Matt physically flinched. It felt like a sledgehammer right to his brain. He got up with the rest of his men (and women), slipped the piece of toast out of his mouth into his hand and let it slip into the bin next to the door to the apparatus floor.

The ride to the scene of the accident was pure torture. The sirens were way too loud, the moving vehicle, flashing lights and conversation on Truck spiralled Matt into a world of pain.

“Captain?”

“I’m fine, Kidd.”

He knew Stella didn’t believe him, but what could she do?

When they stopped, Matt opened his door, was greeted with the sun shining directly into his face and instead of hopping out of Truck and landing gracefully, his knees gave way and Matt crumpled to the ground.

“Casey!”

Matt turned intuitively so he was facing Truck, shielding his face from the sun, both hands grabbing his head.

“Jesus. Casey, you all right?” that was Mouch.

“Kidd takes charge,” Matt grunted.

“We’ll send Brett –“

Matt shook his head. “Only when the victims are cared for. I’m fine.”

He wasn’t sure for how long he sat there on the ground, hanging onto reality by a thread. Matt’s eyes were closed, he would only be seeing stars and colourful blobs if he opened his eyes anyway. It felt like someone was trying to hammer an ice pick through his eye directly into his brain. It hurt. A lot. After what could have been minutes or hours, he felt a small hand coming to rest on his shoulder and smelled perfume that somehow didn’t make him more nauseous than he already was.

“Matt?” Brett’s voice was only a whisper. He could kiss her.

“Everyone’s fine, no one was hurt. Can I take a look at you?”

“Hm,” Matt grunted and hoped she understood it as a yes. “Migraine.”

He felt her take his pulse and blood pressure and then her hand back on his shoulder.

“Okay. I’d like to take a look at your eyes just to make sure it’s really just a migraine and nothing else, okay, Matt?”

Matt clenched his teeth and apparently that was enough for Brett.

“Sensitive to light?”

Matt nodded ever so slightly. “And smell. And sound.”

“Only you, Matt Casey.” He could swear he felt her shake her head.

“Where are your meds?”

Matt tried to concentrate what seemed like quite the task considering his brain had to be pudding by now. Somehow, he thought “Kelly” would give Brett all the answers she needed.

“Kelly knows?”

He nodded ever so slightly again.

Brett and her wonderful hand disappeared for a moment and then she was back, now both of her hands on him.

“We’ll get you back to 51, get your meds and hope you can get around a trip to hospital, okay? Will you ride in the ambulance if I ask nicely?”

Matt almost smiled. She knew him too well. If he had to choose between the front seat of Truck and the (hopefully dark) back of Ambo with Brett next to him, the choice was easy – although he’d hate getting back to 51 in an ambulance.

“Dark?”

He heard her smile again. “Yeah, I’ll make it dark.”

Brett’s hands were replaced by two sets of hands and the smell of turnout gear.

“We’ll get you to the Ambo, Captain,” that was Gallo.

“We go on three,” and Kidd. He was sure she had managed the scene beautifully. He just wished he’d actually seen it.

When Kidd reached three, she and Gallo heaved him to his feet, steadying him when his knees were ready to give again.

Gallo was on his right. “Ready to move, Captain?”

Matt grunted, eyes still closed, mouth shut tightly. The change of altitude did not help his stomach at all.

Together, Gallo, Kidd and Brett managed to manoeuvre him into the back of the ambulance and onto the stretcher. Matt was just glad he had neither lost consciousness nor his lunch.

The banging of the doors pushed him over the edge, though. Matt sat up, groaned as the migraine intensified yet again and swallowed convulsively.

“Wait, Matt, here.”

Brett had one hand on his neck, guiding and steadying him at the same time, the other was presumably holding a sick bag. At least Matt hoped so, because otherwise he was throwing up all over the stretcher.

“You’re okay.”

No, he really wasn’t. Vomiting made his head hurt even more, the strain on his body felt like too much. He heard himself whimper.

“You’re okay, Matt. Breathe.”

Instead on breathing, Matt retched again. The coffee from this morning didn’t taste too good coming back up.

“Sorry,” he huffed, when the heaving stopped.

“It’s all right, Matt. Let’s get you lying down again. On your side. Just tell me when you feel sick again.”

God, she was perfect.

* * *

Kelly was waiting on the apparatus floor with Matt’s meds in his hand. Brett had called a couple of minutes ago, summarising what had happened at the scene and said that Matt’s reply to his meds had been _Kelly_. So that was what was wrong with Matt. Normally, Kelly was quite good at spotting his migraines as they were oftentimes preceded by aphasia. This morning, though, Matt must have slept through the aura – and by that the aphasia – and hadn’t known what was coming. Kelly wouldn’t have let him come to work otherwise.

After Brett had called, he had darkened Matt’s office, informed Boden about the situation and grabbed the meds from his desk.

Kelly was about to glance at his watch again when he saw Truck and Ambo pull into the street.

“Herrmann!”

Herrmann looked up from his newspaper and was on his feet immediately.

“What’s going on?”

Kelly motioned for him to come over and lowered his voice. “Casey’s out, he’s got a migraine. I could use some help getting him to his quarters.”

“Yeah, sure.”

The two of them watched as the vehicles pulled into 51 and then made their way to the back of the ambulance. Even before opening the doors, Kelly heard retching.

He and Herrmann shared a look, Kelly shrugged his shoulders and pulled the doors open.

Matt was on his side on the stretcher, head hanging slightly off of it, and busy vomiting into the bag Brett was holding. One hand was clutching at his head, the other had Brett’s left hand in a vice-like grip.

Brett glanced up at them, “Hi.”

“Jesus,” muttered Herrmann as he took in the scene.

Brett shushed Matt and then locked eyes with Kelly, “I don’t think he can walk.”

Kelly nodded, “I’ll carry him. Herrmann, you take care of the doors. And kill the lights on the way.”

“Done.”

Kelly climbed into the ambulance and rested a hand on Matt’s leg.

“Matt, buddy, I got your meds.”

Because Matt had a history of nausea and vomiting with his migraines, the combination of strong painkillers and caffeine came in a syringe that had to be injected into the thigh. It basically worked like an Epi-Pen.

Kelly had waited until he thought Matt had understood, then made quick work of the turnout pants before fumbling with Matt’s button and fly. He’d done this what felt like countless times at home, but never in front of a girl he knew Matt was in love with.

Kelly shimmied down the pants until he could safely inject the meds and put his free hand on Matt’s hip.

“Sharp scratch, bud.”

He injected the painkillers, let the syringe fall into the biohazard bin on Ambo and pulled Matt’s pants on again. He didn’t bother with the fly or button, his plan was to change Matt into more comfortable clothes in his quarters anyway.

“We’ll get you to your bed, Matt, but it’s not gonna be comfortable getting there. Don’t puke on me.”

With that, Kelly heaved Matt into a fireman’s carry across his shoulders. He felt his friend’s body tense up in pain and knew that he was probably making everything worse right now. Matt whimpered.

“Sorry, buddy.”

Kelly was vaguely aware that Brett was following them but didn’t pay her any attention as he made his way through the firehouse. Herrmann had already switched off all the of the lights and had propped the doors open.

He heard Matt groan again and he knew him long enough that he knew what that groan meant.

“Hey, I said don’t puke on me. We’re almost there, hang on.”

Now he was glad that Brett was hot on his heels. She overtook him in the bunkroom, shooed Herrmann out of Matt’s quarters, put sick bags on the desk and was out of there again to give Kelly the space he needed in what had to be a couple of seconds.

Kelly nodded at her in thanks and then stepped into the small glass room.

“I’mma put you down now,” Kelly murmured and slipped Matt from his shoulders onto the bed right into recovery position. One hand still on Matt’s shoulder, Kelly fumbled with the other for one of the bags and kneeled down in front of the bed.

“All right, go.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth, was Matt getting sick again. Not that there was much left to throw up, but his body sure made the effort to turn itself inside out.

“You need anything?” Herrmann was still standing in the doorframe.

Kelly adjusted his grip on Matt and then turned to face Herrmann – and Brett, who was also still standing in the doorframe, “See if you can get a hot water bottle or something for his neck. Otherwise, we’re set.”

Brett nodded at Herrmann, “We have hot packs on Ambo, work just like the cold packs. I’ll show you where they are.”

Now that the two were gone, Kelly turned to face his friend again.

Matt was pale, clammy and his face was contorted with pain. He was lying just like in the ambulance; one hand on his head, the other clutching at Kelly’s hand on his shoulder.

Kelly put away the sick back, pulled Matt’s chair up next to the bed and rearranged them a bit so that he was sitting next to Matt and was able to hold his hand from a better angle for both their wrists.

“I’ll stay until the meds kick in, buddy,” Kelly muttered.


End file.
